


Across the Courtyard

by Apprendere



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, tiny!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:51:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apprendere/pseuds/Apprendere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cute kid with the window across from Steve's dorm room seems to be unaware his blinds are open enough to see through. Steve is embarrassed and goes over to tell him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the Courtyard

**Author's Note:**

> This is not based on personal experience, just inspired by a dorm I know.  
> Also I kinda want to say I’m mortified that my first fanfic is so… innuendo laced, but I like reading fic like that, so oh well. Here it is.

Steve leans back in his desk chair and glances at the forlorn canvases propped against the wall. He looks back to his sketchbook full of thumbnails and sighs. He has to start this painting today to any chance of feeling satisfied with his work by the deadline. Damn Bucky and his fancy science and psychology classes and lack of required portfolio pieces to do on holiday weekends. 

Steve sighs and watches the sky over the other branch of his U shaped dorm. Maybe he should try painting an optical illusion in the clouds. Oh look, that one is dissipating like funding for the arts. And that one looks like his hopes and dreams before- what is that? The cute guy in the single directly across from Steve has his blinds down, but tipped horizontal and Steve can see right in. The rythmic motion in the room catches Steve’s eye.

Steve refocuses on his work and wonders if he could twist the portfolio requirements to fit a comic book style to this painting. Staring out the window, he considers the possibilities. He could use emanata to play with the composition and create movement in the painting. Steve smiles. Slowly, he realizes what the movement across the courtyard is. His smile freezes and falls as his face turns firetruck red. Instead of gaping, he gives himself a mental shake and flails out of his chair, tripping on his feet, on his way to slam his blinds shut.

Steve stands blushing with one hand braced against the wall and the other holding the blinds’ string taut and ready to drop. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire. He can’t quite bring himself to look away. Breathlessly, Steve watches as the dark haired man drops his head over the back of his chair and thrusts his hips counterpoint to his pumping hand.

Steve swallows and realizes all at once that his mouth has gone quite dry and basically anyone on his side of the building could also see, and that continuing to watch--Tony, his name is Tony, Steve remembers--is a serious breach of Tony’s privacy. In fact, someone should tell Tony before anyone, well, anyone  _ else, _ sees him.

Steve is very thankful that the hall is empty as he walks around the horseshoe dorm to find Tony’s room. All the way down the hall, as he walks he feels the heat in his cheeks. He tries to stop imagining what Tony must be doing right now and how it looks. Tony’s oddly alluring scraggly goatee stretched around a moan from enticingly pink lips. He reaches the door and sees a post it stuck under Tony’s name. It reads “you know who I am” in the scratchy manner of people whose fingers can’t keep up with their heads. Tony apparently has one of the very few single rooms on the floor. Which further confirms that Tony is alone and performing actions that Steve is determined not to contemplate in a public area. He also does not wish to disrespect the subject of such fantas- thoughts. Thoughts, not fantasies about the cute stranger of unknown sexual and romantic orientation. Steve takes a few deep breaths, pulls himself to his meager full height, and knocks.

Steve shifts and wrings his hands as he hears a half-choked cry of surprise through the door. A quick flash of running water, shuffles on the floor, and something hard being dropped on the bathroom tiles followed by indistinct cusses have Steve biting his lip as the door finally opens.

Tony stands half behind his door, hair rumpled, eyes bright but unfocused, in a barely knee length scarlet and gold bathrobe. The robe is clinging and might be tenting out in the general groin region but Steve is determined to look Tony in the eye.

He swallows and says. “Uhhh. Hi, I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.” Steve notices Tony’s pupils are blown wide but the thin ring of iris is a gorgeous liquid chocolate. Steve decides looking in Tony’s eyes is also a bad idea if he wants to preserve his dignity and lack of an obvious boner. His eyes dip to the hem of Tony’s robe and his blush flares back to firetruck red. He snaps his eyes back up. “This is going to be an incredibly awkward conversation.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony squeaks.

“Yeah, uh, yes. I mean, your blinds, the blinds in your room, they’re-”

“They’re down.” Tony blurts. “See?” He opens the door wider and flattens against it. A small groan escapes Tony’s lips. The edges of his robe threaten to fall away and reveal his obviously rigid cock. Tony’s face finally inches toward a blush as he ducks behind his door.

The speed of Tony’s retreat reveals that certain other parts of his body flush much more than his face.

Tony’s accidental peep show as the robe fluttered during retreat leaves Steve silently keening and biting his lip. Tony pokes his head out from behind his door.

“We’re both going to ignore that and you can get it on with whatever you-” Tony appears to hear what he just said and blanches.

Steve turns impossibly redder, the tips of his ears feel only a few degrees away from the center of the sun. He bites his lip to keep from saying he wouldn’t mind getting it on with Tony.

“I didn’t mean it that way! I swear that for once I’m not trying to make this worse. It’s just, you’re cute. And sweet, I’ve seen you stop to help more than one person pick up their books or give them your umbrella or oh god I sound like a stalker. It’s just, I think you’ve had a class every semester that takes you by the engineering building’s coffee shop during my lunch.” Tony gets progressively more sheepish as he rambles. His hand is scratching the back of his head when his speech peters out.

“Oh, um.” Not the time. This is not the time to ask for a date. Steve Rogers, get your ass in gear and tell him about the blinds now and wait to ask about that date you apparently have a chance at. “Your blinds are down, but they’re tipped so I, uh, anyone on our floor really, can see in.”

“Oh.” Tony seems a little dazed, either by the earlier ramble or the situation in general.

“Well, I some things to work out, uh, an assignment. It’s my final project and I was just sitting down to work on it when, uhm.” Steve glances past Tony at the mostly clear view of his own room. His next words pour out in a rush. “I got distracted. Uhm, oh god. I’m so sorry, I tried not to look and I’m babbling and are you free next weekend? I’m in room 616, I’ve got the window right across from you. Why am I still talking? I accidentally voyeurized you and Peggy is always saying I can’t talk to attractive people.” Steve freezes, replaying the last few seconds of speech in his head and realizing that Tony seems to be leaning much further into Steve’s space since the last time he noticed. “Um, that’s why I’m going to go now before I embarrass myself any more.” Steve backs hurriedly into the center of the hall.

“Wait!” Tony holds a hand out, reaching into the hall after Steve. “Uh.”

Tony stares. Steve, feeling like an opossum in the middle of a highway waits for a veritable eternity of seconds. Tony makes small gestures and starts to speak several times.

Tony finally settles on, “Thanks for telling me. See you later.”

“See you.” Steve says automatically. He blush renews itself yet again. “But not, uh... you know. I mean in the normal casual way. Again I’m sorry and didn’t mean to violate your privacy. Which is why I came over to tell you so you could put your blinds down.” The words gush out and Steve spouts a quick, “Bye.” and tries not to actually run down the hall away from Tony’s still open door.

He makes it back to his room, jumps through the door and leans against the back of it to catch his breath. He realizes he never actually put down his own shades because he can clearly see Tony, still in the temptingly short robe, smile and give him a little wave before fully closing the blinds. He peels himself off the door to cross the room and close his own. 

He lets out a slightly hysterical giggle. Sometimes doing the right thing is extremely awkward. He sits in front of his desk, leaning back and closing his eyes. That was a very interesting conversation, and the way Tony’s breath kept hitching just a little. Tony might even now be getting back to his activities. No. Steve thinks that fantasizing about someone he wants to be able to look in the face and ask for a date may not be a good idea. It wouldn’t even require that much imagination, especially after what just happened. Tony is very attractive and the way he sat in his chair, arching with pleasure, appeals to more than Steve’s aesthetic tastes. Steve can just imagine the sounds, Tony’s voice, coming between huffs of air as someone ran their hands over-

Steve decides he needs to take as cold a shower as possible without risking an asthma flare. He admits that would solve the current situation in his pants though.

After a brisk, determinedly unsexy shower, Steve sits down to sketch out some ideas for his portfolio piece. He sets aside his ideas from earlier, instead sketching Tony’s body language. He can try to muster up the courage to ever talk to Tony again to ask if he can use Tony as a model for a portrait right? Well, in any case, the sketches of Tony are a good warm up for his portfolio. Life vibrates through Tony’s every movement. That had been the first thing Steve noticed about Tony. Pure vitality shone through every gesture, no matter how casual. After a while, Steve abandons the hope of getting any work done. He decides he’ll have a fresher start tomorrow and he really ought to have eaten dinner a few hours ago. Bucky is sure to ask and be disappointed if Steve hasn’t eaten  _ something _ at every meal.

As he rounds the corner for the stairs, he nearly runs into someone. Half a second after the near collision, he realises that Tony is behind the heaping laundry basket. “Uh, hi.” he says.

“Huh? Oh!” Tony leans out from behind his basket. “Hi, what are you doing out and about so late?”

“Dinner.” Steve smiles sheepishly and a bit chagrined. “I got caught up in my work and, well, I’ll be in trouble when my friend gets back if I don’t eat.”

“Ah, I have one of those friends too. Hasn’t worked as well on me as it apparently has on you though. It’s what, eleven, eleven-thirty?”

“Eleven-twenty three.”Steve says, checking his watch.

“So hey,” Tony glances down the hall towards his room, “I need to eat too. Do you want to eat together? If you’ll wait a minute I can drop this off in my room.” Tony jostles his laundry.

“Really? Uh, sure. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Here, follow me.” Tony sets off to his room.

Tony seems to be immune to Steve’s awkwardness and by the time they get to the only place still open, a little corner store a few blocks from their dorm, Steve has mostly forgotten it too. Tony insists on paying for the whole bundle of snacks they collect. Tony attempts to justify it to Steve as repayment for notifying Tony earlier. Steve tries to object but Tony grabs the basket and buys everything while Steve is deciding whether or not to get a slurpee.

Back in the dorm, they stake out a spot in the common area to eat their haul. They throw away their mass of poptart, granola bar, and chip packaging before walking up the stairs to their floor.

“So, Steve,” Tony says as they exit the stairwell, “the worst thing you can say is no. Well, there are worse but I don’t think you’re the kind of person who it would occur to to say those things. Anyway, would you go on a date with me next weekend? Dinner and a movie, my treat.”

Steve smiles. “Not your treat.”

“It’s definitely my treat! Wait, does that mean yes?”

“You paid tonight. In spite of me accidentally seeing you, uh…” Steve trails off.

“You’re adorable you know that right? Blushing about seeing me masturbate.”

“It was without your consent! And since you asked I am saying yes. Also I’m not adorable.”

“Just because I was unaware doesn’t mean I  _ wouldn’t  _ consent if I knew. And you’re right, you’re more like a hummingbird, tiny, fast, and packed to the brim with attitude.” Tony darts in close while Steve is trying to formulate a reply and pecks Steve on the lips. “Saturday at seven? I’m going to pay whatever you say.” And Tony rushes down his branch of the hallway.

Steve is left, watching Tony’s retreating butt. He touches his lips lightly before walking back to his room and collapsing on the bed.

The next morning, Steve wakes up and opens his blinds. In the window directly across from his is empty. But, a note is taped to the glass, it reads “Saturday at 7, I’ll come knock if I don’t see you before then. You know who you are.”

Steve laughs. He can’t wait to tell Bucky he finally has a date with the cutie who stumbles around covered in machine grease and oil.

**Author's Note:**

> I am definitely still learning how to write, so please, give me constructive criticism or tell me if something about the writing really bothered you. I tried to only refer to Steve with “he”, “him”, “his” type pronouns. I don’t know if that made it awkward or more readable so if you have thoughts about that, I’d love to hear. There may also be more mistakes near the end because I stayed up later than usual checking over this fic.


End file.
